


The Untaming of Brother Ryder

by ShepardCommander



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 17:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11902521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShepardCommander/pseuds/ShepardCommander
Summary: Summary: Fawkes and Peebee are two very different people. So different, in fact, that they might just be perfect for each other. He's quiet. She's loud. He's restrained. She's uninhibited. It's a disaster in the making. A love story written in the stars.





	The Untaming of Brother Ryder

"Rrrrrryyyyyyyydeeeeeerrrrrrrr!"

Fawkes's eyes flew open just in time to see Pelessaria B'Sayle launch herself at him. His mouth stretched wide in a silent scream, Pelessaria— _Peebee—_ cursing, "Oh  _shit_ , wrong Ryder!", before she landed on top of him with an  _oomf_. The breath was knocked out of him as she rocked forward, her knees mercifully landing on either side of his hips, narrowly avoiding burying into his abdomen or crushing his delicate bits. Her nose did, however, come perilously close to poking out his left eye, and he let out a sigh of relief as she clenched her legs around his waist, catching herself mid-fall. Or, rather, he  _would_  have been relieved, had the entirety of her weight not been pinning him to the mattress, robbing him of precious air.

"Um, hi-ya!" Peebee grinned, lips twisting to the left in an apologetic quirk.

"Ah—h-hi," Fawkes gasped, struggling to breathe. "P-Pe—"

"I really have to stop meeting Ryders like this." Peebee laughed, shaking her head. "Gives people the wrong idea. Or the right one. Really, it depends on—oh! You can't breathe, can you?"

"N-not...as much...as I...would like..." Fawkes wheezed.

"My bad!" Peebee exclaimed, scooting down his belly a ways, coming to rest on his pelvis instead. This was also very uncomfortable for Fawkes, but, at the very least, he could breathe. And breathe he did—loudly and with great gusto. At the farthest reaches of his visual field, he saw Peebee scrunch her face up, as if she was offended party and he the offender, rather than the other way around. "Geez, if it was that bad, why didn't you say something sooner?"

Fawkes bunched his eyebrows together in what he hoped was a menacing scowl and lifted his head. This elicited the exact opposite reaction he was hoping for from the asari, and she burst out in a fit of amused laughter at his disapproving glare.

"Oh! Don't give me that look!" She managed to get out between mouthfuls of giggles. "Or, do! It's kinda—kinda funny how similar you and Ryder look. Faye, I mean. Because you're Ryder, too."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Fawkes remarked dryly.

"Y'know—it just occurred to me—I might not be able to tell you two apart if you're in the same room. At least, when you're modestly clothed."

Fawkes lifted his eyebrows, incredulous.

"Because those tattoos you two have. They're on the opposite sides of your necks." She paused, taking her lower lip between her teeth and worrying it. "I think."

"Seriously?  _That's_ how you tell us apart?" Yes, he and Faye were twins, but...identical? Subconsciously he ran a hand through his hair, content to find that it was short and spiked, just how he liked it, and not chin-length like his sister's.

"Relax, Ryder. Take a joke!" Peebee sat back, ignoring the pops that issued forth from Fawkes's lower back as she rested her full weight on him once more, tapping a single gloved finger against her blue cheek. "Hm. I feel like I've said that before."

"Knowing my sister, I'm sure you have," Fawkes said, glancing down at his lower extremities with a wince. "Peebee..."

"Hm? What? Oh!"

Fawkes couldn't help the relieved sigh that deflated his chest as the asari finally clambered off of him, though that same air that he had expelled was quickly sucked back in when she flounced down beside him.

"Uh…."

The asari blinked, craning her neck to left so she could see him, yellow eyes boring into green. "Yes?"

"Not to sound rude, but...what're you doing?"

She blinked. "I thought that would be obvious."

Fawkes pursed his lips. "...Invading my personal space?"

"Hah! No! You're so funny!" The rogue academic laughed. "I'm waiting for Ryder, silly. The  _other_  Ryder, I mean."

"Can I ask why?"

"You can. Doesn't mean I'll tell you."

"Can I ask why you won't tell me?"

"You can. And I'd respond with it's because you're not Ryder. The  _other_  Ryder, I mean." Peebee's brow lifted. "Actually, I should be calling  _you_  the  _other_  Ryder. Not Ryder."

"Why? Is being the  _other_  Ryder bad?"

"Noooo….not bad…." Peebee hummed, thoughtful. "Just... _other_."

"'Other'?"

"Yup. That's what I said."

"That is what you said, isn't it?"

"Yup!"

"Yup."

The two stared at each other for a moment, silence descending between them like a blanket, and not a comfortable one, either. The sort of blanket-silence they shared was a scratchy, irritating one, the sort that was cast off and disposed of in the most prejudiced of ways. The only reason such a blanket would be kept in use was if the person wrapped in all its scratchy glory was cold, or, in the case of Fawkes and Peebee,  _unfamiliar._

Seconds ticked by, the seconds turning into minutes.

Peebee blinked.

Fawkes blinked.

Peebee blinked again.

Peebee yawned.

And then Fawkes blinked.

Fawkes stifled a yawn.

Peebee watched him.

Peebee yawned again.

Fawkes swallowed another yawn, cringed.

Peebee smiled.

Fawkes scowled.

It was time to throw the blanket-silence off. Fawkes would go mad if the minutes turned into hours.

"I thought my sister and Vetra were—"

"Oh! They are! Like two little peas in a very comfortable pod," Peebee cut him off enthusiastically. "Except, Vetra isn't so little." She tilted her head, regarding Fawkes like a cat observing a mouse. "Why do you ask? Trying to see if I'm available? Or Vetra?"

Fawkes couldn't stop the rush of blood that flowed to his pale cheeks, painting his face crimson. "No! I'm not—what? How would you even…?" He choked on his embarrassment, earning himself another toothy grin from the asari. "You did that on purpose."

"Of course I did. You're fun to tease."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Did I?"

"Uh-huh. Pretty sure that's what those...flap...cone...things...on the side of your head are for."

"My—hey!" If Fawkes's face hadn't been red before, it certainly was now. He held his breath as Peebee rolled onto her side, chest lightly brushing his arm as she reached across to take hold of both his ears.

"These things."

"Ears?"

"Oh, yeah. That's what they're called, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's what they're called. Now..." Fawkes cleared his throat. "Can you please let go of mine?"

"Why?" Peebee asked, doing the exact opposite, tightening her grip before relaxing, fingers ghosting along the outer shells of his ears. "Is this unpleasant?"

Fawkes forced himself to breathe out, breathe in, taking extra care to not inhale the asari's scent. He dug his index finger's nail into his thumb, concentrating on the light pressure and dull pain instead of the soothing motions of Peebee stroking his ears. "K-kinda." He chanced a glance at her face, instantly regretted it—she was staring at his ears intently, curiously. Like a child, almost. Except she wasn't a child. And neither was he. And what she was doing to him, innocent as her intentions were..."What about your head crests?" he found himself asking. He could have slapped himself.

Her shoulders moved up and down in a shrug. "They can be...sensitive. I guess."

"You guess?"

Peebee retracted her arms back to her sides and lay back down next to Fawkes. "Yeah, I guess." Another shrug. "I don't know. Never really thought about it before."

"Why not?"

"Do you think about how your ears work? How they feel?"

"Only one someone is asking me questions about them or touching them. Without my permission," he added a bit crossly.

"Fine, fine. Hint taken." Peebee sighed with a roll of her eyes. "Don't touch Other Ryder."

"Thank you."

Silence.

"My name is Fawkes, by the way," Fawkes said after a minute, before the itchy blanket of silence could descend once more. "In case you get tired of calling me 'Other Ryder'."

"No. I think I'll stick with 'Other Ryder'. Much easier to remember."

"….ok…."

Silence.

It was Peebee that disturbed it this time. "Ryder...isn't...coming, is she?"

"Not as far as I'm aware."

Irritably, Peebee hopped off the bed in disgust. Fawkes propped himself up on his elbows and watching with a sadistic sort of glee as she stomped towards the door that led to the rest of the  _Hyperion's_ Habitation Deck. "You could have told me that a lot sooner!"

"You never asked."

The academic whirled on him, the doors hissing open in front of her to a hub of activity. She stabbed an accusatory finger at him, expression sharp and hard. "What if I had something important to talk to her about, huh? What then?"

"If it was that important, why didn't you say something sooner?"

"That's not what—I never said it—" Peebee broke off at Fawkes's mischievous grin, realizing that he'd just thrown her earlier words back at her. "Oh!" And with that, she turned on her heel and left in a huff, the door sliding shut securely behind her, blocking out the hustle and bustle of the cryo team and roused sleepers.

Fawkes smiled and couldn't help but be very, very thankful that his sister was in a relationship with Vetra and not the gale-storm, hurricane force that was Pelessaria B'Sayle.


End file.
